


Black Coffee and Chocolate-Chip Pancakes

by lameobviously



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: F/M, M/M, obikin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-02-10
Packaged: 2018-05-16 09:52:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5824129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lameobviously/pseuds/lameobviously
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Restaurant AU, Chef!Obi-Wan and Barista!Anakin.  Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Chef at a Five-Star restaurant.  Anakin Skywalker is a barista down the block.  Anakin will not allow himself to form any attachments, especially not to pretty men who only want black coffee.  Obi-Wan is simply curious about the boy who asked for chocolate-chip pancakes at a five star restaurant.  But later they build a unique relationship as Anakin persistently gives Ob-Wan the exact opposite coffee he wants, and finds that Obi-Wan is increasingly enjoying them.  This is a fucking terrible summary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Latecomer

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to Elise and Leah, two of the thirstiest people for obikin that I know.

The large kitchen of the restaurant “Coruscant” smelled strongly of peppers, fish, and baked desserts. Most of the restaurant staff was gathered in said kitchen, which was filled to the brim with waiters and waitresses and cooks, eating all of the leftover food that would otherwise be thrown away. Very soon was the closing time, after all, and this was a five-star restaurant that would never serve a guest food that had been cooked the previous day.  
The Master Chef of the bunch, a man in his late twenties or early thirties who went by the name of Obi-Wan Kenobi, was standing off to the side of the crowd and grinning pleasantly at the festivities. He was in the corner of the pristine white kitchen, in front of the doorway that led to the Dining Room part of the restaurant. That was why it was he that heard the door to Coruscant open and the sound of of single person entering, their shoes echoing on the wooden floors.  
Glancing out the doorway of the kitchen and into the Dining area, Obi-Wan saw a single man standing in front of the closed glass door. His features were obscured by the darkness of the red and black room, but Obi-Wan could see that he was very tall and lean.  
Coruscant did not usually have customers this late. However, it was a weekend and it was technically 10:57, only three minutes until the closing time.  
Heaving a small sigh of disappointment at having to clean up and cook again, Obi-Wan turned back to face the large and rowdy Coruscant staff. Not wanting to disturb their fun or embarrass the lone customer, he only spoke to a cook in front of him, a blonde lady in her early twenties.  
“I do believe we have a new customer.” he muttered in her ear, causing her to jump a little in surprise.  
She turned around to face her boss. “Would you like me to greet them, sir?” she asked, politely, sounding a bit apprehensive.  
“No, no. That’s quite alright. I shall wait on our late newcomer. But I would appreciate if you would start up that stove in the corner for me.” Obi-Wan Kenobi assured her.  
“Right away, sir,” the blonde replied. She turned back around to face her peers before weaving her way through some friends to the stove Master Kenobi requested.  
It was then that Chef Kenobi picked up a notepad and pen, marching out into the Dining Room to meet the customer.  
“Hello there. Table for one?” Kenobi asked, still weaving through the wooden tables covered in red tablecloths throughout the expanse of Coruscant.  
Obi-Wan examined the man before him in the dim lighting of the few still- burning lanterns throughout the room. His long and curly hair reflected golden in the candlelight, his eyes appearing to be bluish. He stood about four inches over Obi-Wan and had broad shoulders and long legs, as well as a very strong jawline that was defined by the shadows. Obi-Wan instantly found him attractive.  
The stranger regarded him calmly. “Hmmm, yes.” he decided in a low and distinct voice. As if the decision to get a table for one was a difficult one.  
Obi-Wan turned and allowed the man to follow him through the array of furniture to a tiny table with a golden and glowing lantern hanging above. In the better lighting, Obi-Wan took notice that the man looked strangely young in some angles and noticeably older in others.  
As soon as he sat down, Obi-Wan asked him if he knew what he wanted to drink. The stranger simply asked for a glass of water.  
Obi-Wan briskly walked backed into the kitchen to find it beginning to clear out. The blonde cook, Jennifer, was waiting alongside the stove. Obi-Wan walked past her to take a glass from the recently cleaned ones and filled it with water and ice.  
Taking the glass back out to the man, Obi-Wan found him absently staring off into space. He placed the water down in front of him, which brought him out of his reverie, and quickly asked him if he knew what he wanted to eat.  
The stranger had not even opened the menu, which was a bit questionable as there were at least thirty dishes to choose from.  
The boy nodded, looking directly at Kenobi.  
“Can I have some Pancakes?” he asked, an innocent look in his eyes and a faint smile on his lips.  
Master Chef Kenobi blinked at him. He was a bit shocked to say the least. With a hint of a frown at this newcomer, Obi-Wan replied, “Sir, this is a Five Star restaurant. We do not serve children’s breakfast items.”  
At this point, Obi-Wan was just letting his tiredness show his passive aggression. After all, he should be going home now and yet this boy came into a restaurant directly at closing time and ordered something that wasn’t even on the menu.  
The stubborn man frowned, looking away from Obi-Wan for a second. Then he looked back up and made eye contact with Kenobi, placing a new order.  
“...Chocolate-Chip Pancakes?” he asked, hopefully.  
“We do not serve that either, I’m afraid.” Kenobi muttered as the last noise from Coruscant staff died down as they all left.  
“In that case,” the lean man muttered, standing back up, “I can easily make myself some chocolate chip pancakes back at home.”  
Towering once again over Obi-Wan, the stranger passed the chef a ten dollar bill and promptly walked out of the restaurant on long strides. He slid on a black jacket over the long sleeved, deep green t-shirt he wore and reopened the glass door dramatically. Stepping out onto the darkened city street, the tall stranger strode away from Coruscant without looking back.  
Obi-Wan still stood beside the empty table, notepad and pen poised to take an order of food that wasn’t going to come. As the cool Autumn air from the outside washed over him, Obi-Wan watched as the latecomer retreated down the street and into the darkness.


	2. Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anakin: Sike, bitch!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the way I don't really have a posting schedule, just whenever my friends look right over my shoulder and make me post stuff.

Three days after the incident with the pancake- hungering man, and Obi-Wan Kenobi was wanting for another item that Coruscant did not serve: Coffee.  
Kenobi had all but forgotten the incident late on Saturday night. The restaurant got all kinds of strange customers. However, they usually requested mainly unheard dishes with exotic ingredients, hoping to impress the Master Chef. And in turn, Master Chef Kenobi typically responded in his usual fashion of sarcasm and an overflowing knowledge of the indie dish in question.  
But this time, all Obi-Wan wanted was plain black coffee. So he hung up his red apron on a special hook by the kitchen door, not bothering to change out of his black Chef’s uniform. He wove through Coruscant, who had just gotten past a rush hour and now had a dwindling population.   
Obi-Wan stepped out of his restaurant and onto the city sidewalk. Even at 9:30 on a Tuesday, city life did not cease to be busy as ever. People milled about everywhere, entering shops and laughing loudly with friends. Obi-Wan entered the crowd of people, crossing streets and making his way towards a newly opened Coffee House down the block from Coruscant.  
Despite the crowd and the cars driving everywhere, the air smelled like the distinct “cold” smell. To Obi-Wan, it was a brilliant relief from the smell of fish in his kitchen.   
Nearing the Coffee House, Obi-Wan could clearly see through the glass the windows that covered the front of the place. It had a very warm look to it, despite the tables everywhere and the menu hanging over a stone countertop. On the left side of the restaurant was a large fireplace with a cosy and bright fire burning in it. The amount of stone and dark wood inside the Coffee House gave it a Winter lodge type of aesthetic. Upon nearing the place, Obi-Wan could read a sign hanging above the door that proclaimed the Coffee House as “Tatoobean."  
Obi-Wan opened the glass door and stepping inside, the small chime of bells following him from the door. Behind the counter on the right side of the restaurant was a single barista, fixing a drink for a teenage girl in front of Obi-Wan. It wasn’t until the barista turned to look at Obi-Wan that Obi-Wan realized that he looked familiar.   
The barista placed a lid on the girl’s coffee and handed it to her. Then he turned towards Obi-Wan and grinned widely, bracing his palms on the countertop to achieve a playful stance. Then, he asked Obi-Wan, “What can I get for you?”  
The second the barista, whose name tag read “Anakin”, spoke, Obi-Wan realized who he was: the boy from Coruscant a few days ago who ordered Chocolate-Chip Pancakes.  
He was wearing the same clothes as before, presumably the job uniform for Tatoobean; a long sleeved, green t-shirt with the restaurant name on the front, as well as tight black pants. He also wore a gray apron. Now, with the bright lighting of Tatoobean, Obi-Wan could examine his features more closely. This “Anakin” had light brown and curly hair, worn in a long fashion that Obi-Wan thought suited him all too well. His eyes were bright blue, along with dark arched eyebrows, high cheekbones, and plump lips. However, his age was virtually undetectable.  
“Ah, yes,” Obi-Wan Kenobi muttered, realizing he had been staring at Anakin for a bit longer than what was socially acceptable. “One medium black coffee, please. No cream, no sugar. Also decaffeinated.” Obi-Wan replied to the barista’s question.   
Anakin made a small face of disgust, eyebrows drawing together and mouth turning downwards. But he set to work anyway, picking up a white coffee cup and brown lid. As he worked, Obi-Wan turned to watch the fire. He thought it was mesmerizing, the way it moved and flickered. It wasn’t until Anakin was heard behind him, trying to get his attention with several “Sir!”’s that Obi-Wan realized he had completely zoned out.   
Whipping back around, Obi-Wan muttered “Oh dear,” while taking his coffee. He thrust a ten dollar bill at the blushing barista and stood waiting for his change. 

Obi-Wan did not bother to see if the coffee was correct, or even any good, because he could feel from the outside that it was much too hot to drink yet. But later, when Obi-Wan had already made his way back to Coruscant, he realized only then that Anakin had gotten the order completely wrong.   
Instead of plain black coffee, he put cream, sugar, and at least three different types of flavoring into it. It was probably the sugariest thing Obi-Wan had ever consumed, the kind that gave him a terrible heachache a while later. In fact, when he lifted the lid, there was still undissolved sugar left in the supersaturated solution. On top of that, Obi-Wan could detect peppermint, caramel, and pumpkin flavorings, among other things.   
Kenobi did not understand how exactly someone could screw up an order of plain black coffee that bad. After tasting it for the first time, Obi-Wan muttered a sarcastic “Good Job,” towards the pretty barista. But he didn't have the coffee replaced.  
A while after he had gone to get the drink, Obi-Wan watched as Anakin closed up shop from a window of Coruscant. It had just began to snow for the first time in that season, and as Obi-Wan watched the first flakes fall and Anakin walk away from Tatoobean he realized that the coffee mix up may have been intentional. He laughed quietly to himself, thinking the coffee was a simple prank. Obi-Wan denied Anakin his Chocolate-Chip Pancakes, and Anakin denied Obi-Wan his plain black coffee. But, what Anakin didn’t know was, despite the headache it had given Obi-Wan, the coffee really was quite delicious. And it had given Obi-Wan an excuse to go back and meet Anakin.


	3. Onions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things finally start to pick up here.

The twenty-two year old Anakin Skywalker sat alone in the corner of Tatoobean, thoughtfully chewing on a scone in the beginning of his lunch break. He pondered various topics, alone in his thoughts as they slowly drifted to the coffee situation involving Chef Kenobi from down the street.  
Since the first time the chef had entered the shop, Anakin had intentionally given him the wrong coffee 3 times. And he still did not have any valid reason or explanation as to why he did this, besides his own poor impulse control. Even more befuddling, according to Anakin, was why Kenobi kept coming back. Or why he didn’t complain to the manager. Anakin could picture the ash-blond man telling the manager at Tatoobean exactly what had been occurring in the Coffee House, his kind eyes and soft accented voice betraying no anger or judgement. Anakin realized (not for the first time of course) that he could definitely lose his job for such insubordination. That Anakin’s entire job and income of money depended solely on whether this Chef Kenobi would tell the manager what he had been up to.  
Suddenly, the barista felt incredibly guilty. He knew that it was not just him that would lose financial support if Anakin lost his job.  
The bell-like chimes that signaled an opening of the glass door to the restaurant shattered the barista’s thoughts. Speaking of the devil himself, Anakin glanced up and noticed Chef Kenobi from Coruscant alone in the doorway. Anakin leaped out of his chair, despite it still technically being his lunch break. He was propelled by his thoughts of guilt, so uncharacteristically determined to do well at his job for once that he embarrassed himself immediately.  
Dashing behind the counter as fast as he could run, Anakin tripped over the edge of the stone counters and fell. Hard. Flat onto his front, just barely avoiding smashing his face down as well. In fact, Anakin hit the ground so hard with a smack, that his immediate recovery made it seem that he bounced off the hard floor like a bouncy ball. He was back on his toes in no time, tying an apron around his waist and pretending that nothing happened. A frightened Kenobi stood with his mouth agape, not having time to ask if the younger was alright before he was pressed with the hyper question: “What can I get for you?”  
The barista was fully composed now, despite some heavy breathing from the whole event and his right hand subconsciously rubbing an injured left elbow. He was smiling slightly, apologetically, and his cerulean blue eyes met Kenobi’s cobalt ones as he popped the question. For an instant where neither man spoke, time appeared to freeze for the both of them in their eye contact.  
Figuring he was probably misinterpreting the doe-eyed look on Anakin’s face, Kenobi’s own eyes found refuge in the stone floor patterns before he looked back up and smiled awkwardly at the waiting barista.  
“May I please have one medium-sized, plain, black coffee please?” the Chef asked in his faint english accent.  
Anakin turned around, fully intending on giving the customer exactly what he requested, no matter how disgusting. This time around, Anakin did not add anything extravagant or extra or gaudy, just plain and bitter bean-water. Finally, he exchanged the piping-hot beverage for American currency over the counter.  
As Anakin counted the change and put what was owed into the cash register, he heard a choking noise from Kenobi. He quickly looked up to find the chef coughing and spluttering from the drink.  
“Are you alright, sir?!” Anakin exclaimed.  
When the coughing finally ceased, Kenobi stood upright with watering eyes and reddened cheeks. Anakin raised an eyebrow, hesitantly.  
“I have never once tried black coffee in my life and enjoyed it.” Kenobi said with a roughened voice. “There are very few foods or drinks on the Earth that my tastebuds adamantly refuse, black coffee and onions being among them. My goal in drinking it every time is to get my tastes to at least stand the absolutely awful taste of black coffee. Being a chef, I do not wish to dislike any food.” Then he lifted the lid on the cup and handed the cup back to Anakin, saying; “I will pay you extra if you change this coffee, make it into one of your own concoctions, anything of your choice.”  
Anakin grinned at the ridiculousness of the situation. He took the cup back from the customer but refused the money, saying “As long as you don’t want to order a new coffee, we can change it as much as you like.” Then he turned around and began filling the cup with extra ingredients on a whim, not really knowing what exactly he was putting in. At one point Anakin half turned towards the chef and asked, mockingly; “Would you like me to put onions in it?” The disgusted response on Kenobi’s face made him laugh.  
After that, the two stood in silence as Anakin worked. Kenobi watched Anakin from behind as he swayed his hips in time to the music playing in speakers within the shop. And then Anakin passed the cup back over the counter into Kenobi’s welcoming hands. It was absolutely overflowing with whipped cream that was covered in rainbow sprinkles. Anakin passed over a spoon as well to eat the cream with.  
Laughing out loud this time, Kenobi nodded his head in thanks and turned to leave the Coffee House. He was almost to the door when he heard a call behind him: “Wait!”  
Well, there were only two people in the restaurant so it could only be one person. Kenobi turned around to reface the barista, who had already taken off his apron and stepped back out from behind the counter.  
Anakin was smiling cheekily, as if he wasn’t sure of himself. “Are you sure you don’t want to take me up on my onion deal? Right now is my lunch break and there is a deli only a few blocks from here.” he said.  
Kenobi smiled himself and he heard himself reply: “I would love to.” he stuck his free hand out as a formal introduction to Anakin, “My name is Obi-Wan, by the way. Obi-Wan Kenobi.”  
Anakin, still grinning and now faintly blushing, did not shake Obi-Wan’s hand. Instead, he grasped it at an awkward angle but then shifted his arm he could lace his fingers through Obi-Wan’s. Holding his hand, Anakin led an amused Obi-Wan out of the shop.  
“My name is Anakin Skywalker.” he said with conviction.  
The two made their way through the streets to “Not-Too-Far Deli,” holding hands like lovers the whole way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Not-Too-Far Deli" wow, hear they have lots of roasted meats and lava cakes there. I really need to stop with these puns. Also my Instagram is the same as my user on here, lameobviously #spon.


End file.
